Wild Bear, Chapter 4: Like Father, Like Son
by An Asteroid's Belt
Summary: Tjorborn was just a regular caravan guard with a tragic story. Losing his mother at an early age, and having a strict father has never been easy on him. But, now he's the Dragon Born? Huh. Join Tjorborn, Ja'liir, Miora, Gorlock, Norin and Floria on a quest to defeat Aludin, and save Nirn.


"Are we there yet?" Miora said, slumping her shoulders in boredom. "Almost, once we get over this damn mountain, we should be able to get a nice view of WindHelm. Then, we know where were heading." Tjorborn said, making huge steps across the thick snow on the mountain.

"But, cant we just not use the mountain, and go around the other three next to it? It might take some time, but at least our legs won't be killing us." Ja'liir stated, also slumping her shoulders. "If we go around, it'll take more time, and that means that dragon could've destroyed WindHelm, before we even get there." Tjorborn stated.

"We can't fight that thing, so what makes you think having us in WindHelm will protect it?" Ja'liir asked, still thumping throw the white snow. "Well, we can warn Ulfric, and then they can be ready to fight the damn thing." Tjorborn spat out, in anger that Alduin killed Ferin.

They soon arrived at the top of the mountain, and had a great view of WindHelm, and it's docks, along with the bridge. "I've never been to WindHelm. It looks… dreary." Miora said, her eyes squinted to see more of WindHelm. "Yes. It is dreary. Khajiit like me aren't even aloud to make damn camps outside of the place!" Ja'liir yelled, in anger.

"What? Is the Jarl racist or something?" Miora asked, in confusion. "Yes. Very racist. He only likes Nords, and especially hates elves. Dark Elves to be exact. But, I reckon when we get there, you two should j8ust make a camp, out of sight. He won't let either of you in, so I guess I have to do this alone." Tjorborn said, still looking down at WindHelm.

"Ok. We'll make a camp to the North-East of here. Over there." Miora stated, pointing at a smaller mountain. "We'll be behind it. Okay? When you're done speaking with Ulfric, come to that mountain, we'll meet there." Miora said, still pointing at the Mountain.

So, the group split up, and Tjorborn made his way directly to the front gates of WindHelm. He eventually got to the bridge, and requested entry from the guards. "Huh? The doors always opened to a brother Nord, my friend." A female guard said, opening the gate.

Tjorborn walked in, and he instantly felt at home. He breathed in the fresh, snowy air, and felt like he belonged. Little did Miora and Ja'liir know, his father lived in WindHelm, and so did he when he was a child. So, his first instinct was to go to his father's house. While he was making his way across the streets to the house, he saw two Nords pushing around a Dark Elf. They both were ugly, and one of them only had one eye.

"Oi! Get away from him!" Tjorborn shouted, brisking up to the two men. "Leave him alone, you drunk idiots!" Tjorborn yelled, his hand on the handle of his sword. "Us!? Idiots!? You're the one defending this Gray skin!" The man with one eye yelled. "Racist pigs." Tjorborn spat, pulling the Dark Elf away from them. The Dark Elf ran, the two men walking into Candle Hearth Hall, The Inn.

Tjorborn showed them his middle finger as he walked away, but they didn't care. He eventually made it to his father's house, and knocked on the giant wooden door. The door opened, a large man, with scars all over his face appeared. He instantly hugged Tjorborn, and let him enter the gray, stone house.

"Father, it's good to be back." Tjorborn said, laying his sword on the table. "I'm glad you're making yourself at home, take a seat, I'll get you some food." Tjorborn's father said, leaving the room for the kitchen. Tjorborn's face lit up, hearing there was food to be eaten, because he was very hungry.

After a couple minutes, Tjorborn's father came back into the room. He had wine, mead and five pieces of cooked steak. He laid the meal and drinks on the table, and they began to eat and drink. His father drank the mead, and Tjorborn drank some of the wine, and had already downed half a steak.

"What happened, Tjorborn, you're eating like a dragon! Ha!" His father said, laughing. Tjorborn was not happy to hear "Dragon.", especially from his father. "Derston.. father.. you won't believe this but…" Tjorborn was struggling for words, and didn't know how to say this to Gerston, his father. "We.. we got attacked by a.. dragon…" Tjorborn finally spat the words out, and he was shivering as he spoke. "A…dragon… a dragon! Just like the stories, and the legends! But, the first dragon that has to appear is… Alduin.. the world eater!" Gerston yelled, getting up from his seat.

"Go tell Ulfric, now my boy! If anyone believes in Dragons, it's Ulfric!" Gerston shouted, now dragging Tjorborn out of the house to get to Ulfric. Tjorborn quickly grabbed his sword, and then followed his father to the Hall of Kings. As soon as they got there, they entered the Hall, seeing Ulfric on his throne, speaking to his Steward.

"Hm? Who enters my hall, especially without permission? What do you two request of me?" Ulfric said, smiling, and sitting on his throne. "A dragon threatens these lands. We come with warning, a dragon could swop down at any moment, Jarl!" Gerston shouted, Tjorborn was very nervous.

"Hm. A dragon, aye? Well, I did hear a roar that could only be described as a dragon. Where is it heading?" Jarl Ulfric inquired, raising one eyebrow. "To Falkreath. But, once it's done there, it may come here. Or to Riften, or even Dawnstar." Tjorborn stated, crossing his arms.

"Ok. I'll send more troops to guard my cities and villages, but Falkreath is an Imperial controlled city, so letting them burn will not be bad for me." Ulfric stated, slouching on his throne. "Listen, can't you set your differences aside from the Imperials?! There's damned dragons flying around, and you're still worrying about this petty war!? How many people have to die, to prove that this war will solve nothing? Hundreds? Thousands!? Maybe even millions!" Tjorborn shouted, guards grabbing his and his father's arms.

"Let them go." Ulfric said, having an angry look on his face. "Fine. I'll see if I can call a temporary alliance. But if not, I'll just have to keep fighting this war." Ulfric stated, looking around. "Send the troops to all Stormcloak cities and villages, and send the couriers to Solitude! Let's make this damned alliance…"


End file.
